


A Moon's Shadow

by AkaUsa



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Dark Magic, F/F, Manipulation, One-Sided Attraction, Substitution, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:14:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28557438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkaUsa/pseuds/AkaUsa
Summary: Shadow Weaver has craved many things in her life, some that she'd never have, others that she may have gotten in unexpected ways.
Relationships: Angella/Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Glimmer/Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14
Collections: The Annual Femslash Kink Meme 2020





	A Moon's Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt on the dreamwidth community femslash_kink: Shadow Weaver/Glimmer + one-sided Shadow Weaver/Angella, Shadow Weaver using Glimmer as a substitute for Angella, who she has unrequited feelings for

Shadow Weaver had only seen the Queen of Bright Moon once from afar, a long time ago, back when she wore a name that she hadn't chosen for herself.

The Sorcerers of Mystacor mostly stayed confined behind the protections of the floating island, which complicated any interaction with the outside world and prevented them from meeting new people. That old fool of Head Sorcerer Norwyn didn't help, forbidding them to interfer in the battle between the Horde and the Princesses.

Light Spinner had been lucky, before the conflicts had gotten too bad, to be made part of a rare excursion in search of magical scrolls, a quest which had led the Sorcerers near the castle of Bright Moon. Her eyes had naturally been drawn to the tremendous power of light that exuded from the Runestone and there, she had seen Angella for the first time.

As a sorcerer and searcher in all kind of magic matters, she had already been fascinated with her long before that. Light Spinner had extensively studied the connection between the Princesses and their Stones, as well as the many magical powers it gave them. But watching her in the flesh, feeling the strength and grace flowing from her every movement, had intensified her fervor tenfold.

Her frustrations towards the way the Princesses dealt with the Horde didn't detract from the esteem she felt. If a powerful and immortal queen couldn't properly lead this war, then surely the fault laid in her advisors, who should have been replaced by someone better. And Light Spinner craved nothing more than to be authorized by the Great Council of Mystacor to be placed under Queen Angella's command. To serve and advise her, to help and guide her towards victory.

Surely, the place where she could have been the most useful was next to her majesty. To think that such a beneficial arrangement between sorcerers and princesses may not ever happen made the bile rise in her stomach. The exchange of knowledge alone would be incredibly valuable, especially the possibility of studying the Moonstone and its mysterious energy which thoroughly overwhelmed her. The very thought of the Queen showing her this power up close, letting her feel the shine of the moonlight on her skin, was enough to fill her with warmth.

But again and again, Norwyn refused her demands, as if he didn't believe her capable enough to achieve such a task. She would have though, she was sure of it. She'd have done anything to please the Queen, to get inside her inner circle, to be the one she would trust the most, above all others. And perhpas even, to be able to touch those delicate wings.

Eventually, she grew tired of the constant rejections of the Council and tried to take power with her own hands.

The Spell of Obtainement may not have worked as she intended, but it opened her eyes and made her realize that the only path for her now was to follow those who seeked strength. There was no point in trying to councel the fools who kept trying to limit themselves for absurd reasons, when they had been given by right of birth such gifts that Shadow Weaver had to fight her whole life to gain a glimmer of.

Joining the Horde had been the best decision she could have ever made. Unbound by the stupid rules of Mystacor, she could at last study everything she desired without any old geezer stopping her. She had the secrets of the Black Garnet to pierce and of course, it was thanks to her defection that she would meet Adora.

A few years before that fateful encounter however, she had first learned of Micah's exploits in joining the Rebellion and marrying Angella. Shadow Weaver had laughed, hearing those news. Of course, it should have been expected that her apprentice, so brilliant, so talented, would have achieved what she never could have.

Depending on her mood, when she imagined the Horde conquering Bright Moon, she sometimes saw herself in a merciful light. Facing a beaten and defeated Micah, she forgave her past student for his desertion in the middle of the forbidden ritual and offered him to join them. She would show him what she had accomplished, how she had subjugated the Black Garnet's powers to her will, and perhaps his eyes would still shine with the same love for magic that she had seen everytime she had taught him something.

She had even more elaborate fantasies in which she convinced a captured Angella of her might, making the Black Garnet's magic clash with the pure energy of the Moonstone, having her submit to the combined powers of her spells and the dark Runestone. She could picture it perfectly, the proud and beautiful wings bending, Angella's eyes looking up to her in fear and with the smallest hint of admiration. Her hands would grasp at the dark billowing clothes for attention, her fingers brushing against the barrier of the red wooden mask in an attempt to reach out, to seal the alliance that Shadow Weaver had coveted for so long.

But in the grand battle that signed Micah's defeat and the Rebellion's biggest loss, he kept struggling to the end, trying to fight off his enemies even once captured. No light of adoration remained in Micah's eyes and he rejected her fiercely, breaking any delusions she might have kept of husband or wife wishing to join her side.

Rather than having him killed there, Shadow Weaver let Hordak send him to Beast Island, unsure of which would have been the worst fate. In her mind, a vision of Angella learning about Micah's death kept appearing. She stood tall and proud, dignified in her suffering as a tear rolled slowly down her cheek. Everytime, Shadow Weaver pictured herself brushing a finger against her soft skin to wipe away the drop and everytime, Angella would slap her hand away. It didn't stop her body from shivering with a desperate craving as she went over new battle plans with the Force Captains, dreaming of conquering Bright Moon.

But as the Princess Alliance fell apart quickly after that, her fantasies changed again. She hadn't imagined Angella to be that weak. Now she saw her in a more pitiful light, on her knees, her cheeks wet with tears that she would kiss. The shadows around here coiled, eager to feel at last the sweet, pure energy emanating from every pore of Angella's body, if such a day would ever come.

The years passed and with the victories of the Horde staying few and in between, Shadow Weaver's daydreaming about Angella became sporadic. She was deeply focused on raising Adora into a powerful soldier, into the great leader that she expected her to become, even. And that was more than enough to satisfy many of her former aspirations.

Which only made her defection to Brightmoon and the Queen's side hurt even more.

Shadow Weaver's hands twitched and contracted, arms stretching out towards the Black Garnet as she tried to draw all of the power she could from it out of rage. Always, it was the same, everything she craved and worked for had to be taken away from her. Bitterness tore at her from the inside, together with the parasitic magic of the Spell of Obtainement, leaving her wanting to scream. Worst was, she couldn't even suffer her pain alone. Catra lurked around in the shadows like a thorn in her side, nagging at her, ranting about Adora like it wasn't her fault that Shadow Weaver's precious girl had ran away.

Dealing with her had taken much of her willpower, of which a lot was already being used-up on satisfying Hordak's capricious demands. Still, eventually, Catra had her uses and her eagerness to prove herself lead to good results. When she brought back princess Glimmer to Shadow Weaver, it felt like the winds of good fortune were finally blowing for her at last.

The little princess was easily chained with the magical powers of the Black Garnet, which proved itself particularly effective against the energy of the Moonstone, just like Shadow Weaver had thought it would. A smile appeared behind her mask when she imagined, for the first time in a while, showing her work to Angella. Yes, she would put her the prettiest black chains to present her to Lord Hordak.

It was funny, when she thought about it, how things had such a roundabout way of coming back to her. Micah had won Angella's heart and given her a daughter, and now Micah's child would bring Angella to Shadow Weaver.

While waiting for Angella to surrender, she took her time, watching over Glimmer as she pictured secretly how her mother would look in defeat. The hair color of the young princess and the feel of her magic were close to Angella's but otherwise, she was stout and short like her father and the wings that adorned her back were atrophied. She screamed and trashed uselessly against the magical chains, making Shadow Weaver smirk. After all, she was just a kid, such weakness couldn't be helped.

Only when Glimmer's fist connected with her jaw, knocking her to the ground, did she realize that she really shouldn't have been underestimating the combined powers of Micah and Angella. And to think that she had just gotten Adora back, making all of her dreams come true at the same time.

As if this mistake couldn't have been enough, she then was defeated by Catra, lost Hordak's faith and even the Black Garnet's connection. She was at the end of her rope, after having hoped for a blissful moment of gaining back everything she had dedicated her life for, from Adora's trust and mind to Angella's body and powers.

Once locked in her cell, she was haunted by those visions, dreams that she frequently had but that gnawed at her even more strongly now that she had been forced into inaction. Every night, she dreamt of Bright Moon. It always looked just like it had the very first time she had laid eyes on it.

The faces of Adora and Angella kept appearing to her, whether awake or sleeping. She imagined them walking around the eerily empty castle, the shapes of its corridors and rooms both glorious and hazy. Sometimes, even little Glimmer popped-up in her mind. A slightly disappointing vision, but one which had the merit of being less harrowing.

Despite having no windows to look at the sky, Shadow Weaver could still follow the movements of the moons as the days and nights passed. Catra, still sticking to her side like glue, appeared more and more distressed, which helped her remaining calm in return, as she formed her desperate escape plan. The wild fantasies turned into hope and determination, she had nothing to lose anymore.

The moons aligned and her spell tore through space.

* * *

She had known her chances of surviving would have been extremely low, but the opportunity to see Adora one last time and to finally meet face to face with Angella more than made up for it.

Even as violent coughing fits shook her, she fed off the anger, fear and incomprehension that appeared on their beloved features. Her body may have been pierced by pain every few seconds but it didn't matter, not when she could also feel with every inch of her being how much they needed her and her knowledge. She would have laughed out of pure joy, had her throat not been hurting too much already.

And then, as if that night couldn't have been better, Adora, dearest Adora, had healed her.

Confined in this comfortable golden cage of a prison and healthy again, Shadow Weaver could now start planning for the future. Without wasting any time, she had told the Queen and princesses everything about Hordak's goals. The simple yet unbelievable truth had naturally distressed them greatly and Shadow Weaver hoped it would make them come back for more.

Angella did visit, multiple times. She would ask questions, get frustrated at the answers and then stay silent, pacing around the room to clear her thoughts. Meanwhile, Shadow Weaver could look at her as much as it pleased her to. It was a thrill, to provoke all those emotions in her, to see her thin lips press together and her long eyelashes quickly blink when lost in thought or attempting to contain her anger.

Every time the Queen came to her, she did her best to hold her back as long as possible, offering her vague answers, inquisitive questions and cutting remarks. Anything was good to be able to see her just a few seconds more.

"I've never understood, with your powers, why haven't you done more?"

Maybe it was her own fantasies, her thirst for Angella's magic that made the Queen appear to her much stronger than she actually was. But surely, she could have wiped so many of the Horde's troupes and easily won back important strongholds, had she really wanted to. And then there was the dissolution of the Rebellion after Micah's death. That, she couldn't understand at all.

Watching her face turning slightly pale at her words, something clicked inside Shadow Weaver's mind.

"Or perhaps... are you afraid?"

Suddendly, the calm mask of eternal wisdom that perfectly suited Angella's features disappeared. In its place, for no more than a second, a look of abject horror distorted her traits, before she managed to bottle up her emotions again. It was the most delightful sight Shadow Weaver had ever seen.

She wanted to caress her cheek in twisted comfort, to savour every inch of that desperate expression born from the realisation her secret had been exposed. But even if she had broken the magical barrier around her and reached for it, Angella would have slapped her hand away.

After receiving a stern warning to not overstep her boundaries with her groundless theorizing, she simply bowed, which seemed to add insult to injury. Angella quickly left the guest room and Shadow Weaver thought everything was as fine as it could be. Not knowing she would never see her again, she felt like she had gotten all she needed, all she could hope to gain from her, with this revelation only she had been privy to. For both her feelings and body would forever be unreachable to her.

And then, Glimmer came to give her a taste of the Moonstone's powers.

Magic gathered around her with more ease than she could have ever remembered. Glimmer's palm was warm and sweaty in her own, her short and plump fingers crushed between Shadow Weaver's claw-like nails. More than once, she had to remind herself, lost in the exultation of strength coming with magical powers, not to dig those too much into her skin, lest she drew blood. Still, it wouldn't have displeased her, to feel warm liquid dripping against her skin. Just like she enjoyed being able to put Catra in check, after the disgrace of their previous battle. For once in a long time, she felt like she could do anything and of course, it wasn't enough.

When they came back to Bright Moon, disaster barely avoided, their small feeling of victory was quickly washed away by Adora's news of what had happened to Angella. Something clawed inside Shadow Weaver's body, like she had been emptied of her insides. Her fingers trembled, already losing the memory of the vibrant energy that had inhabited them only a few hours earlier. That hazy euphoria born of the powers of the Moonstone, of Angella's life, was now completly gone from this world.

No, not completly obviously, considered Shadow Weaver as Glimmer's crying face came into her line of sight. It seemed that despite all her failures, new opportunities kept appearing in return. Perhaps, she still had a small chance of becoming the confidante of Bright Moon's Queen, after all those years.

Despite how much she had enjoyed that taste of the Runestone's powers, she knew she had to avoid getting close to it. Her dependance on the Black Garnet had been enough of a painful lesson. If she were to start feeding the parasite inside herself such great magic again, it would certainly end-up killing her the minute she had no more energy to give. And Queen Glimmer would never give her free access to the precious energy of pure light that she had inherited from her mother.

So Shadow Weaver kept to her best assets, her voice and knowledge. Glimmer was afraid and even desperate to not feel good enough, to be seen as inferior to her parents. If anyone could be well placed to help her with that, it was her father's old teacher. Although she had barely interacted with Angella in truth, she had her own ideas about what kind of person the Queen had been and the confidence to make herself appear in the known.

As she taught Glimmer magic, she had to show her the proper gestures, the precise ways to draw perfect spells. It was a good opportunity to also try and correct some of her everyday habits. To change how she moved and walked in order to give her a more regal look. To encourage her to imitate some of her mother's behaviors, presenting it with the purpose of reassuring and soothing her people in those difficult times.

Glimmer would listen to every mention made of her parents, eyes shining with longing and anticipation, rejoicing in the memories and driven to be up to the task in front of her. She was as much eager for Shadow Weaver's approval of her inherited talents as for her support in being a more active participant in the war than her mother.

But the young queen could also be very stubborn, fiercely rejecting some piece of knowledge or advice that she didn't accept. She was impatient too, be it in her studying of magic or other lessons. And while Shadow Weaver felt pleased by seeing how quickly she learned and how often she came to her, she was afraid of pushing things too fast. Of giving her too much before she could properly make her see things the way she did, taming her spirit and guiding her mind. A task she knew from experience was far from as easy to complete as it sometimes appeared on the surface.

What she really hadn't expected was how fast she had won her body. It all started with subtle touches, lingering hands on Glimmer's arms as she helped her form a new spell, a soft sigh against the back of her neck or the slightest caress of her fingers against her lips as she made her taste the sweetness of an edible flower.

One day, she had put her hand down Glimmer's lower back to guide her inside the garden for their next lesson, when she had caught something like a look of recognition in her eyes. Behind the safety of her mask, Shadow Weaver had bitten of her lips, wondering whether she had been too hasty and gone further than she should have at this point. She tried to keep their physical contact limited for a while just in case, but each time they touched ever so slightly, she could feel Glimmer's eyes watching her, although the queen didn't say anything nor looked particularly distraught.

Weeks passed with various options dangling in Shadow Weaver's mind as she considered her next move. Those thoughts only became more muddled, in the middle of a lesson, when she felt Glimmer's fingers holding onto hers for more than the few seconds necessary to take the magic ingredients she was giving her. Later, when Glimmer had joined her during her afternoon tea to complain that she had, again, not been made part of a mission, she had firmly caught her hand while refilling her cup. And on another day yet, she bumped into her by teleporting too close and grabbed her by the hips, sliding her hands against them to hold back the both of them from falling. The next second, she quickly let her go, cheeks red, as she carried on her way.

It kept on like this for a few days, with awkward and clumsy gestures. One evening in the garden, Glimmer tried to touch her hair to get a fallen leaf out of it and Shadow Weaver caught her by the wrist.

Gently and slowly, she lead her to put her arm back against her body. Up, her fingers then went, brushing ever so slightly against the skin and cloth. Startled at first, Glimmer now stood very still, holding her breath as her eyes followed the rising hand that climbed across her shoulder. When it touched her face, she let out a small gasp, followed by a trembling sigh as Shadow Weaver leaned to whisper in her ear.

"Be patient", she had told her, before announcing the lesson over and offering a later date for the next one.

From that point on, Shadow Weaver had let her fingers wander more easily over her cheeks and neck, progressively getting bolder and sliding them around the curve of her hips and breasts. Still, she didn't rush things, enjoying the soft moans and panting breaths her light touches caused. She stayed on that track for their next encounters, being occasionnally less straightforward to keep Glimmer on edge, until she finally slipped a hand between her legs.

It was a bright sunny day, with most of the Rebellion out of Bright Moon, on patrolling duty. The castle was quiet, the guards supposed to watch over Shadow Weaver had been sent away, leaving no one to possibly hear the muffled moans of pleasure coming from inside the guest room.

As she was working carefully on bringing Glimmer to orgasm, Shadow Weaver's eyes were glued to each and every twitch of her expressions. She had noticed, that brief time when she had glimpsed fear on Angella's face, how similar it had looked to the horrified expression Glimmer had shown her back when she had been a captive of the Fright Zone. Since then, Shadow Weaver had diligently gathered in her head any detail she could, tried to remember any likeness in the way they expressed various emotions, and had been pleased to note that they matched pretty often.

Like how their frowned eyebrows would loosen up exactly in the same way when they relaxed, or how fast their eyelashes blinked when overwhelmed. She thought that the noises they made, the smell and taste of their skins should have probably shared very strong resemblance too. Sweet and sugary, the voice going just a little shrill when Shadow Weaver pushed too much at their buttons. And with that consideration, she absolutely had to witness everything, to not miss a single groan or blush as she made Glimmer come. So that she could engrave their faces in her mind forever.

Once Glimmer finally reached her climax, she did it clingling to her robes, hands grasping at Shadow Weaver's back. Her shining eyes had turned hazy as her pupils dilated and with her tiara removed, her hair had quickly been ruffled, strands clinging to her forehead and cheeks with sweat. Shadow Weaver looked at her for a long while, until Glimmer turned away in embarassment and pulled her clothes back up without a word before leaving.

She had been shy and compliant, lovely to direct and please, if she were to never approach Shadow Weaver again after that, this one single time would have been a good memory enough. But she also hoped that Glimmer would let herself stay close enough to be caught again.

And come back, she did, faster even than Shadow Glimmer had anticipated, and with much less timidity than previously.

It seemed that after having a first taste of what she craved, her natural boldness had returned to her. Just like in their lessons, she turned eager and impatient, ready to throw herself into debauchery in ways that almost overwhelmed Shadow Weaver sometimes.

Hastily, she would try to undress her, exposing her face and scarred body without a care, kissing the wasted skin and rubbing her own soft and rosy body against it. No matter Shadow Weaver's attempts to slow her down, to control the flow and rythm of her movements to fit her will, Glimmer's stuborness would not bend. Sneaking around the castle to grope a feel when no one was there to interrupt them or fucking with the use of magic, she enjoyed those new ewperiences with a perverse glee. And although it certainly made for pleasant times, Shadow Weaver couldn't help the bitter thoughts, that Angella would never have done such things, from lingering in her mind.

"I would have made her like it", the prouder part of her tried to argue, but even it didn't seem quite that confident.

There were many things she couldn't change anymore, but while she stroked the back of an half-asleep Glimmer, a contented smile on her face, she felt hopeful. Her numerous mistakes had not been useless, she had learned from them. Then she had failed again, but each time she had bettered her skills. She could still improve her situation even now, little by little, it only took more patience to outrun Glimmer's youthful energy.

Around the atrophied wings, Shadow Weaver's fingers drew playful circles, hoping to feel the feathers grow under her hands, envisioning them turning large and delicate, as white as the Moon Stone. This time, she knew she wouldn't get it wrong.


End file.
